Idea Sparker
by BrOwNiEfOx
Summary: Okay, not really a crossover, it's just a bunch of ideas that I'm never going to write. If you ever need a small spark to set off ideas, they're here! I'm probably be doing mostly KHR and APH. T just to be safe. I own no.thing but the story ideas. Says complete, but will keep updating. #1- Intro and Radioactive (aph) #2- Dead Decimo (khr) #3 Branded (aph) #4 Lost Revolution (aph)
1. Intro and Radioactive APH

Okay guys! This is a place where I'm going to dump all the ideas that I'm probably never going to use.

Most of them will probably be either KHR or Hetalia, so, have fun. If you want to use them, feel free, but please contact me so that I can see how they turn out! Also, I really like America, so most of my fanficions are focused on him, but most you could probably change so that it is about a character you want.

So, enjoy these stories I probably will never write completely!

* * *

In the year 2013, a nuclear war broke out, raging all over the world. By the end of it, very few people were really left and surviving. In the process of this, many Nations died too, their populations completely dead, not a single person alive. Others simple went into comas, not enough order in their land for them to be awake, but enough people alive for them to continue to exist,

40 years afterward, in one of the broken cities in America, two people live together, stealing what they need, robbing when they needed money, anything to stay alive. The group of two grew to a group of five, then to nine, reaching roughly 30 people eventually. This people became an organized gang called Cassidy Sundance, after the two people who were a scourge to the Wild West many years ago. Whether this group was good or evil, it was organized, more organized than most things.

In an old house that had been around since the founding of America, a blonde haired American slept soundlessly, seeming almost like a corpse.

Then, for the first time in years, the American opened his blue eyes and took in a deep breath of the nuclear-rich air.

* * *

Okay, things that I really want:

I've been playing with the idea that he doesn't remember who he is (your choice though)

There are only five or so other Nations still alive


	2. Dead Decimo KHR

It was a peaceful morning, that is, it would be if it wasn't for the man falling from the sky. The man wore a hoodie that covered his eyes and a pair of jeans. Said man was currently screaming from the top of his lungs as the earth began to come closer and closer. Finally, in defeat, the boy closed his eyes, preparing himself for impact. After about fifteen minutes of nothing, the boy opened his eyes and saw that he was a foot from the ground, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and purple flames spread out below him.

"Oh, well, that works." The boy carefully raised himself a bit farther before landing on the ground safely. Looking around him, he saw he was in a graveyard. Slowly, he walked until he came to a tombstone under a cherry blossom tree. The grave was beautifully decorated in a scene. There was a ruby hurricane, a citrine sun, emerald lightening, sapphire rain, lapis mist, amethyst clouds, and all surrounded by a topaz sky. Written on the elaborate grave were the words were:

**_Sawada Tsunayoshi_**

**_To some, he was Dame-Tsuna_**

**_To others, he was the sky_**

"So this is it, huh? Not bad, not bad at all." The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a small hourglass with red sand running through it. On the bottom was digital time 6:59:50:32. "Well, guess I just wait here for them, then I'll just play it by ear. I want to make the most out of my time before I return to hell."

* * *

2 years ago, Sawada Tsunayoshi, official Decimo of the Vongola mafia, had died, leaving his guardians devastated. Dino had had to take the roll of both boss of the Cavallone and the Vongola, taking Tsuna's guardians as his own. Every year, on the day, that Tsuna had died, they came to visit his grave.

Just as they were doing now.

Gokudera, Ryohei, Lambo, Yamamoto, Chrome, Mukuro, Hibari, Dino, and Reborn were walking towards the grave, all dressed in white suits with undershirts of their respective flame colors. The grave yard was empty the other times they had gone, but today that wasn't the case.

Sitting in front of their dead Decimo's grave was a kid.

* * *

Things I would prefer in it:

They don't know the kid can use flames

Kid's name is Nob

Kid is actually Tsuna


	3. Branded APH

America gave a loud yawn as he woke up, stretching his arms out before reaching onto his side desk and grabbing glasses. Shoving Texas unceremoniously onto his head, America headed into the bathroom to take a shower. As he took off his shirt, he noticed a dark burn on his chest. America reached and touched it, his finger tracing the familiarly elaborate B and E with a large A on top.

"It's amazing you don't heal." America muttered to himself. "It's like you're a scar I got from a war or terrorist attack or something." America looked at the scars that littered his chest, giving a sigh. "Well, it's a good thing no one ever sees it, the people who have know what it is, so I'm in no trouble." But the memory of when he had been branded was clear in his head, and all those times from when he was still a colony.

* * *

"CANADA! WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!" A small America nudged his sleeping brother, trying to get him to get up.

"OW! America, please don't touch there! That's where my brand is!" Canada got up and touched the place where his brand was softly.

"Oh, that's right, you just got branded yesterday. And they did it so sloppily too! And what's they're excuse? That they couldn't see you!" America began ranting angrily.

"It's okay America. I'm sure it will heal up eventually. What does your's look like?" Canada asked curiosly.

"Hm? Oh, you want to see my brand? Under one exception: You gots to show me yours!" Canada nodded and America took off his shirt, showing his brand. Canada followed suit, showing a similar brand, with the exception of a C instead of an A and that the skin around the brand was an angry red color. America resisted the urge to touch it, instead reaching into one of his drawers and grabbing a small container.

"British Empire gave this to me." America opened up the container. "It makes the burn feel better." America got a little bit on his finger and gently smoothed it over the burn. "I don't know why he didn't give you any. But anyways, get your shirt back on, we have to get to the Colonies Meeting, and if we're late, big brother British Empire will be mad at us.

* * *

**A/N: *Gives a shrug* I don't know, just a really random idea that popped into my head.**

Rules:

All the Colonies have brands

… and from there it's all yours. Don't forget to tell me if you like it!


	4. Lost Revolution

America sat in the mud, gun on the ground, rain pouring over him, making the blood pour easily out of his wounds. Above him stood Britain, musket in hand. He had lost. He had _lost. _The one thing that America couldn't stand had happened. What would happen now? America didn't want to go back to Britain's house, he couldn't go back to Britain's house, or he might die from all the painful memories. But he couldn't do anything right now. The world was growing dark and fuzzy, and the pain of losing a war, his chance at being a nation, his people, and his pride was all too much to take at once. He welcomed the blackness and fell into a dark abyss.

* * *

Britain stared at the boy passed out in the mud in front of him. What had happened to the boy that had loved to make him happy, who would do anything for him, who was scared to be left home alone? It would seem that kid had left while he was gone and had been replaced with a man bent on becoming a nation.

Britain sighed and knelt next to the young man, ready to pick him up and carry him back to their old house in Virginia, but before he could America started to shrink, de-aging until he looked around 10 or 11 years old. _Maybe things can go back to the way they used to be,_ Britain smiled and picked the now small boy up, his uniform now baggy on his small form.

* * *

Outside of the Virginia house, gallows had been set up, all of America's delegates standing with a noose wrapped around their necks, each of them standing defiantly and proudly as jeers from the crowd jostled them. America sat, watching from the window of his bedroom on the second floor. He wore a metal collar with a long chain that connected to heavy block of metal. England had explained that it was just until he could be trusted again, but it didn't make it any less painful. But of course, nothing was more painful than watching as one by one, each of the men he cherished was hanged. Tears streaked down his cheeks and his voice was quickly becoming hoarse from all of the screaming he had been doing. He only quieted when only one remained, a man who had been like a father to him. George Washington stood there, head held high and proud.

"Any last words?" Britain asked from the side, venom green eyes on the man that had changed his sweet, Little America.

"Don't think this is the end. You may have killed us, but the spirit of America still lives, and as long as it is there, the American Colony _will _rebel again." And then, as if in slow motion, the floor fell out from beneath George, and he fell, the noose tightening on his neck. America's screams filled the yard again, pain filling his chest as the man who had helped him and been ever so kind died. As he screamed the world faded, it's colors becoming black, yet his conscious stayed, continuing his tortured screams.

After what seemed like hours, America's voice finally gave out. Eventually, the British Empire came in and knelt in front of America. America faced him, but his beautiful sapphire eyes seemed to be looking off in the distance. America sniffled slightly, clutching his old ragged stuffed bunny close to his heart.

"Shh, it's okay, they're gone, those bad men are gone." Britain wrapped the boy into a hug. "Now everything will go back to normal."

"I-it will n-never be back t-to normal." America gave a shaky response.

"What?" Britain drew back.

"I-I was almost an n-nation, a-and you c-can't change t-that." America's glared at him at this, yet his eyes off slightly. "A-and anyways, n-now, I'm can't s-see."

* * *

_Time skip 1783-1942_

_All of the other colonies have successfully revolted, yet America has never done so again. Although Britain (now more commonly called England) never comfirmed the rumors, all the other nations believed that America had died with his Revolution. _

_Without America, Technology is not nearly as advanced as it should be, and the Second World War is just beginning. We pick back at England's house in Virginia, where the Allies are having a war meeting._

* * *

Canada gave a long yawn as England and China discussed some war tactic he could care less about. He honestly did try to pay attention, but things just got so boring. If America were here- no Canada, don't think about him. Don't. Think. About. Him.

The door burst open, revealing a little kid in a blue and white sailor suit, blonde hair, enormous eyebrows, and a blind fold around his eyes ran in, bumping into the table before crawling under it, giggling the entire time.

"Sealand, I thought I told you not to come in here while I'm having a meeting! And why in the world are you wearing a blindfold?" England grabbed the boy roughly and took off the blindfold, revealing the boy's sea-blue eyes.

"You always ruin my fun!" Sealand pouted. "Alffie and I were playing hide-and-go-seek, and this is the only way that it's fair! Now give me back my blindfold so I can find a good hiding place before he counts to one hundred!" Sealand snatched his blindfold back and raced out of the room.

"Who's Alfred?" Canada asked his old caretaker.

"Just one of my colonies. I believe you've met him before." England answered dismissively.

"Can we meet him?" France prompted. England gave a sigh.

"Fine, but then we need to get back to the meeting. Follow me." The four Nations followed behind him as he led them upstairs. When they reached the top floor, they could hear a voice counting up from one of the rooms. England opened the one that the voice was coming from and the counting abruptly stopped as they entered a room where a young boy sat on a bed. He had blonde hair with one stubborn piece that stuck up in the front. His eyes were a paralyzing blue that seemed to pear into their very souls, yet didn't seem to really see them. Both Canada and France realized that they had met this colony. They had both thought him dead though, had even mourned over him at one point.

It was America.

* * *

Rules:

America becomes a nation in the end.

America and Sealand are best friends.

(Not really a rule, more a suggestion) America dies in the end.


End file.
